A Cloak of Night
by Traci the Fire Sprite
Summary: Will saw what happened when a mortal found the Light to be a cold master, saw him die for his betrayal. But long before Will's 11th birthday, something happened. The Dark took a leaf out of Merlion's book.


A Cloak of Night: Prologue "Ten Years Previous"  
  
A/N: This fan fiction is nothing like any of the already posted DiR fan fictions. It does not deal with the Dark coming back to the world to wreak havoc on Will's emotional sanity. It does not deal with him falling in love. It deals with him facing up to the coldness of the Light, which he was born to serve, and learning to do his job as the Watchman. But this will come later. For now, I'll keep you in suspense. This prologue takes place ten years before Will Stanton's "coming of age" in The Dark is Rising.  
  
Disclaimer: The Dark is Rising Sequence, characters, and events belong to Susan Cooper. Mr and Mrs Jacobs, Bethy, Starlight Dancer, and plot belong to me. If anyone wants the black silk shirt, they can fight Alana for it, because I know she likes that shirt a lot. Heheh. };)  
  
-Traci of the Wild Magic  
  
The roads were in bad shape in this part of the country, pitted and scarred with years of bad weather and careless driving. The windshield wipers were batting ineffectually at the torrent hitting the car, and the headlights barely pierced the gloom ahead. One would think that anyone traveling in this weather was mad, but someone was.  
  
Mrs Jacobs fought back tears as she drove. She and her daughter Elizabeth were leaving the country tonight, that was certain. The fight that night between her and Mr Jacobs had been their worst, and their last. Mrs Jacobs had confronted her husband concerning some of the rumors she had heard around town, and had expected him to reassure her that they were not true. What she hadn't expected was for him to tell her that he had been planning to tell her anyway, to tell her of his affair with a co-worker, and tell her how the divorce papers were as good as signed. And that he was applying for full custody of Elizabeth.  
  
The fight that had ensued was punctuated by yelling and stifled sobs, ending with Mrs Jacobs picking up her purse and Elizabeth, grabbing Elizabeth's travel bag of toys, and storming out to the sound of Mr Jacobs' laughter.  
  
Mrs Jacobs brought her thoughts back to the present as she rounded a particularly sharp turn, and wiped her tears away so Elizabeth wouldn't see. She gave her daughter a watery smile and ruffled her curly, light brown hair. Elizabeth sat in her car seat, humming tunelessly as she played with Kate, her favorite doll. She looked up at her mom and grinned as her mom ruffled her hair, sending it down in her eyes, and gave a small giggle as she tried to trap her mom's hand between her own. After a while she went back to playing with Kate.  
  
Elizabeth was pretty smart for being barely three-years-old. She knew nearly all of her letters, though she sometimes got "p" and "q" mixed up. She was very proud that she could count up to ten without using her fingers. Her favorite color was obviously green, as nearly all of her clothes varied only within Elizabeth's own spectrum, from jade to dark emerald, to pine, to lime, to sea green. Her humming got louder and emerged into a simple tune as she turned Kate around in a circular dance.  
  
"Bethy, Mommie's trying to concentrate. Please don't hum right now, just until we get to the airport in the city. Then we'll get to ride in an airplane. Won't that be fun?" Mrs Jacobs tried to keep her voice light and steady.  
  
"Daddie coming too?" Bethy said, still twirling her doll. The pause before her mother answered went unnoticed by the child.  
  
"No," her mother continued to watch the road, slowing down on another curve. "Daddie can't come. He has other.. affairs to attend to." Mrs Jacobs looked at her daughter and though how futile this attempt to escape was. They would have to come back for the divorce case. She would lose half her belongings. She would lose her home. She would lose her daughter, her only daughter.  
  
Only by sheer force of will was Mrs Jacobs able to keep her tears from mirroring the storm outside. The unshed tears burned her eyes, demanding that she break down, that she give up. That she give up her daughter.  
  
"Mommie, where's Kate's pony?" Bethy said from her car seat. Mrs Jacobs looked at her daughter. I'm going to lose her, she thought.  
  
Mrs Jacobs answered shakily, "He's.he's in the toy bag behind my seat. I think near the top." She wiped her eyes hurriedly again as Bethy climbed out of her car seat, another trick she had learned early on, and between the seats to the back seat.  
  
Mrs Jacobs glimpsed her daughter's face in the rear-view mirror, and the waves of hopelessness again threatened to overwhelm her. She was going to lose her daughter. Lose what mattered the most to her. She didn't hear the toys being shifted behind her, and a small voice calling, "Where are you, you silly pony? Don't hide from me! I'll find you!" So similar to the words her husband had yelled as she had started the car to leave forever. She was going to lose her daughter, her only child. Mrs Jacobs squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to block out the thought. "There you are, Starlight Dancer, you naughty pony!"  
  
As Bethy started to climb back into her car seat, a small sob escaped Mrs Jacobs' lips, and she opened her eyes. Two pinpricks of light reflected the headlight, the eyes of some creature. Mrs Jacobs swerved sharply to avoid hitting whatever it was, and heard her daughter's small cry as she fell sideways. Mrs Jacobs immediately looked to see if her child were hurt. Through her tears, the rain, and the gloom of the storm, Mrs Jacobs didn't see the sharp curve in the road ahead.  
  
The car went straight off the road and into the trees of the forest. It struck an old oak tree about twenty feet form the road on the driver's side. The crunch of metal was accented by the shattering of glass as the impact caused Bethy to be thrown through the windshield.  
  
  
  
Bethy woke up in the flickering light of the burning wreckage on the damp moss growing beside a decaying log. Shallow cuts on her arms and legs from the glass burned as the rain pelted down. The raindrops ran down her ace like tears and the wind whipped her rain-darkened hair into her face as she sat up, stinging her eyes. She pushed her hair out of her face, crying softly at the pain of the cuts along her arms and legs. She crawled forward a few feet, towards the flames, skirting around the debris and shattered glass. "Mommie? Mommie? Mommie!" Her voice sounded small and far away even to her, as the storm roar snatched it away into nothing.  
  
She didn't hear an answer, only the ceaseless rumble of the storm, and the crackle of the flames as the wind pulled at it and the rain beat down. She cowered down quickly as a crack of thunder immediately above startled her, and she did not hear the hoof beats coming.  
  
"There now, little one. What are you doing here all alone?" said a kind voice from above her. Bethy looked up into the slightly amused face of a man on a tall, black horse. The man smiled at her and swung down from the horse to kneel down in front of her. His bright blue eyes smiled kindly at her, and his dark-reddish-brown hair was untouched by the rain or wind under the short black hood he wore over his head.  
  
His soft smile turned quickly to concern. "You're hurt, little one, and you'll soon catch cold if you don't get out of this wet." She nodded, shivering, as he unhooked his long cloak from around his neck and wrapped it around her, fastening the short silver chain around her neck. Under the cloak he wore a black silk button-down shirt and a pair of black pants. As Bethy looked at him, she noticed that the rain didn't leave darker splotches where it hit his clothes. She reached up and adjusted the cloak around her neck, leaving a small dark smear of blood from her arms on the hem. Bethy stared at it a moment, then looked back up at the man.  
  
"'M sorry I messed up your cape," she murmured through her shivering. The kind man just wiped away the blood away with one of his black-gloved hands.  
  
"Don't worry, little one. This old thing's had much worse things spilled on it." He looked at her, and carefully pulled the hood of the cloak up over Bethy's head. Then he leaned down a bit more to peer at her under the hood. "There now, feel any better?" he said, amused.  
  
She gave a shy smile and nodded silently. She did feel a bit better, the cuts and scrapes on her arms and legs didn't hurt as much now that the rain wasn't hitting her, and she wasn't moving. She no longer felt cold, the man's cloak and hood were very warm. The man was nice, and he had a kind voice and a friendly smile. Her smile faded a moment. "But what about Mommie?" she said plaintively, looking again towards the wreckage. The fire had begun to subside as the rain fell endlessly down. Bethy tried to stand up to see clearer, but fell back again with the pain in her legs.  
  
"Don't." the man said sharply, and then added, softer, "You're hurt." He stood up, then leaned down and picked Bethy up, balancing her in his left arm against his hip. "There, now your legs won't get hurt any worse by trying to walk." The black-clad man looked down at the small child wrapped in his cloak and hood, who continued straining to see a glimpse of her mother. "Don't worry." His blue eyes smiled a small smile all their own. "Your mother is fine. She just had a small car accident and had to go get help. She left me to take care of you. She's fine. I promise."  
  
Bethy looked up at his face. "She's not hurt?"  
  
The man gently took Bethy's chin in the thumb and index finger of his right hand and looked her in the eyes, sincere sapphire eyes meeting innocent blue-grey. "I promise you, she is not in pain in any way." He smiled slightly again. "Except maybe a little worried about whether or not her daughter will trust me."  
  
The little girl looked at him a bit longer, then looked over his shoulder.  
  
"Is that your horse?"  
  
He turned around. "Yes, little one, he's mine." Then he added, "Though sometimes I start to think I actually belong to him." The man stepped forward so that Bethy could pat the tall black stallion on the nose. As she did, the horse tossed its head slightly and gave a low wicker.  
  
"Hear that? He likes you." Said the man softly, brushing his reddish hair back with his fingers. Bethy continued patting the stallion on the nose, listening to the thunder and rain around them.  
  
"I have a toy horse just like your horse," Bethy said. "What's your horse's name?"  
  
The tall man shrugged lop-sidedly. "I don't know. I never named him. What do you think his name should be?" Bethy seemed to debate on this a while, thinking hard as she stroked the horse's nose reflectively.  
  
"Starlight Dancer." She said at last. The man laughed, and said to the horse.  
  
"Starlight Dancer, eh? What d'you think of that, old boy?" The midnight stallion pawed the ground with one of its hooves, and dipped its head for a moment.  
  
"He says yes!" Bethy said triumphantly, as the man laughed again.  
  
"You sure have a way with horses, little one. Have you ever ridden one before?"  
  
"No. Daddie said he was going to let me start riding lessons when I was a bit older." She said, stroking the horse again.  
  
"Well, maybe we can start you lessons early." The man said, shrugging again. Bethy turned her head eagerly towards him.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really."  
  
"Wow." Her eyes were wide in three-year old wonder as she gazed up at the horse. The man walked around to the side of the horse and lifted the girl up onto the black stallion's broad back.  
  
"Okay, now swing your leg over to the other side. There." He said.  
  
Bethy looked around her and then down at the man, who smiled up at her. "This is really high up. Aren't you ever afraid you'll fall off?"  
  
The man shook his head and stroked the dark horse's neck. "You know?" he said softly, "This is the first time I've ever taught someone to ride. I guess we'll learn together, hm?"  
  
The little girl smiled back. "Sounds good to me!"  
  
"I'm glad you think that, Bethy." The man said, then in one movement he swung himself up behind her on the black horse. "Okay. Lean forward a bit, and grip some of the mane where you can reach it and hold on. Hold on with your legs as well."  
  
Bethy took hold of some of the coarse wet horse's mane and held tight with her legs. The cuts on her arms and legs had stopped bleeding, but they still hurt when she moved too much. She felt the wet, black silk sleeves of his shirt brush by her arms as he also took a hold of the mane.  
  
The storm was in full tilt by now, lightning flashed every few seconds, and between the near-deafening roar of thunder, Bethy thought she could almost hear other horses. The man sat straight up, looking out, into the forest.  
  
He saw the tall black shadows, darker than the flickering storm-shadows of the tree, and as numerous as the trees themselves as they rode among them. He saw the white shadows, standing out against the gloom of the storm, brighter than the clouds hurtling down out of the north. He leaned down again, a small smile playing on his lips as he murmured.  
  
"Hold on, Bethy."  
  
The sound of the little girl's gasp was lost against the thunder that rumbled above them as the kind, blue-eyed man lead the horse in a quick circle, and set it into a full gallop to the east. Bethy held tight, a small black-cloaked figure riding in front of a larger, black-clad man with his red-brown hair flying back in the wind.  
  
Bethy laughed, giggling at the speed of the horse, and closed her eyes against the stinging spray of the rain. She did not see the other figures on horseback that joined them in the ride. Most were clad in black as the kind man had been, though here and there were some clad in white. The shades of their cloaks matched and blended with the colors of their horses as they rode through the trees.  
  
The storm continued to rage overhead, with the rain falling ceaselessly down. Yet the flashes of lightning that illuminated the forest as bright as day every few seconds only illuminated the smoldering wreck of what was once a car near an old country road though the trees. But if one listened carefully, one could hear the thunder answer each lightning-flash back with what sounded like an echo of a small child's laughter, and hooves pounding across the stormy sky. 


End file.
